


Midnight Rain

by SundaeCandle



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bonding, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Friendship, Getting to Know Each Other, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Pre-Time Skip, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26210113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SundaeCandle/pseuds/SundaeCandle
Summary: It is said that the destination doesn't matter, but the journey one takes to get there does.Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd came to the Officers Academy for a singular purpose. One that he decided to dedicate his life to. However, upon beginning his time as a student, he finds himself struggling between fulfilling his promise to the dead and fulfilling his duty to the living.With her life once upturned by being sent to the academy, all Marianne von Edmund feels like she can do is take one day at a time. However, when the new professor asks her to join the Blue Lions, she decides to take a chance. Perhaps this can be a way for her to turn a new leaf.They could easily live out the rest of their year at the monastery as mere acquaintances, unaffected by each other's existence... and yet there is something that brings them together still.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Marianne von Edmund
Comments: 13
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my first Fire Emblem fanfic! I took one look at these cinnamon rolls and my mind automatically went into ship mode. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

Sometimes, when moonlight poured onto the cathedral's floor through stained glass, when the dark of the night hung so heavily in the air that it oppressed the world into silence, Marianne would see the prince of Faerghus standing solemnly with his head bowed and hands clasped. 

The first time she saw him there, Marianne convinced herself that whom she thought was the prince was just someone one who resembled him. She continued to believe that until a few weeks later when she saw him again, standing in the same spot in the backmost pews where she had seen him before. Even then, she questioned whether or not her eyes were deceiving her, but one look at the blue cape draped over his shoulder affirmed that he was, in fact, the house leader of the Blue Lions. 

There weren't many people in the cathedral during the hour or two before midnight. Of course, there were the guards and the priests. There were the people who moped the floor and dusted the statues. Then there were people like Marianne, who searched for peace under the dimness of the cathedral's lanterns. Some nights there were only a handful of people. In others, a bit more. However, no matter what, there always seemed to be a sense of solitude in the cathedral. Perhaps it was the spaciousness. Or perhaps the quiet.

Marianne frequently visited the cathedral ever since she arrived at the Officers Academy. It was one of the few places in the monastery where she felt a sliver of calm. So, it only seemed natural to go to the cathedral whenever a bout of nervousness wouldn't let her fall asleep. There, she hoped that her mind would clear enough to finally let her body rest, even if it was only for a few hours. 

Ever since the night she identified the prince, Marianne found herself glancing at the spot in the pews where she had last seen him twice. Without noticing, she soon became more aware of his presence. He visited the cathedral sporadically. Weeks would go by before Marianne would once again note his silhouette sticking out from among the vacant seats. 

Whenever she saw the leader of the Blue Lions, she couldn't help but wonder why. 

_Why is he here?_

Marianne didn't mean it in a malicious way — it was borne out of curiosity more than anything. At these hours, most people would be sleeping. Why would the prince choose to visit the cathedral now rather than during the day — which would give him the least trouble? 

Marianne let the question bounce around in her mind for a few days before realizing that it was no business of her own. Whatever the prince prayed for was between him and the goddess. He probably came to the cathedral at these times to be able to pray without feeling as though someone was watching his every move. She felt like that sometimes when she prayed during the day. Still, Marianne wasn't as half as important as the prince, so no doubt he had more of a reason to feel that way. Perhaps nighttime in the cathedral was the only time where he could feel alone. In any way, Marianne had no right to be questioning the prince's reasons for being here. 

On one particular night, Marianne sat on a pew with her eyes closed and fingers intertwined upon her lap. She had finished with what felt like her thousandths prayer and was now only listening to the sounds of rain falling against the ground outside.

Marianne liked the rain. Stormy nights with thunder and lightning didn't scare her. They might have once when she was a child, but these days she finds them comforting. Storms somehow ceased her constantly running thoughts. And in those few precious moments, Marianne could just _be_ without having to grapple with the reality of what _being_ meant. 

With a sigh, Marianne opened her eyes. She stared at her hands, blinking away the sleepiness that took hold of her. Should she go back to her room? Maybe she could go to sleep now. But with the rain it would definitely be a hassle…

She decided to wait until the rain let up a bit. 

Marianne's gaze swept across the nearly empty cathedral. A woman wiped down the pillars, and to her left a priest sat on a chair reading a book. A guard stood watch at one of the entrances, leaning back against the wall, head bobbing. Marianne turned to look at the aisle of pews across from her. She immediately recognized the figure that stood there. 

Normally, Marianne had no trouble tearing her eyes away from him, admonishing herself for interrupting his time with the goddess, but this time she couldn't get herself to look away. 

Something seemed… wrong. It wasn't like the other times that she saw him. The prince's head was slumped forward and he clasped his hands so tightly together that they shook. With all the shadows, Marianne couldn't exactly tell what he was doing, but it appeared as though he was whispering to himself. At first she thought the prince was saying a prayer, then she realized that he was almost _forcing_ the words out of his mouth. As if something was stuck in his throat and he was trying to cough it out.

Marianne peered at him, a hand gripping the back of the pew in front of her. She debated on whether she should say something. He looked like he was in pain. Did he need help? Should she ask the priest she saw to speak to him? Or should she go herself?

Every passing second was spent digging herself deeper into a spiral of uncertainty. What if he really was just praying? What if sleep deprivation was messing with her head? But what if he truly was in pain? Would she be able to help — or would she just make things worse? 

Her thoughts were pushed aside as the prince jerked his head up. Looking at the ceiling, he took in a deep breath and paused. The prince brought his head back down a moment later. He then sat down on his pew, resting his forehead against his interlocked fingers. 

It was then that Marianne understood. It was then that she recognized that he _was_ in pain. Not in the normal way, but in pain nonetheless. That was something she knew too well. 

Her eyes wandered back to her hands, which lay in her lap once more. Judging from the gentle pitter-patter that sounded outside, the rain had dissipated into a trickle. 

Marianne let out another sigh and laced her fingers together. She raised her hands over her heart, closed her eyes, and prayed. This time for the prince. 

~•~•~•~

Marianne had been seated by herself in the dining hall when Professor Byleth came by and sat across from her. After exchanging pleasantries, they both went back to eating. 

If it were anyone else, Marianne would be panicking at the idea of dining with someone. She spent most of her time alone — as she should — and avoided talking to others as often as she breathed. Needless to say, her conversational skills were severely lacking, and she hated burdening people with her inadequacies. It was much easier to stay away from everyone than to subject them to her awkwardness. 

But things were different with Professor Byleth. Marianne's first impression of her was that she was a bit odd. Her face seemed to always be stuck in a sober, emotionless expression. Her voice hardly had any inflection in it, bordering on monotone many times. Despite all that, the professor became one of the people Marianne felt most comfortable with at the academy. The professor didn't pressure her to talk. She didn't mind letting silence take over their conversations, relieving Marianne from the worries she usually had with others. Because of that, Marianne didn't mind dining with the professor. 

"Marianne," Professor Byleth began, setting down her spoon into her bowl of soup. "Do you remember a week ago when you told me that you were struggling with your studies?" 

At this point, "struggling" was an understatement. Marianne had all but lost hope on ever getting her grades back up to where they used to be just a few months ago. 

"Um, I do…" she replied, twirling her own spoon between her fingers. 

"Yes, well, how are you feeling now? Do you still feel the same way?" the professor asked. 

_How I'm feeling now? Not so differently, I suppose..._

Professor Hanneman was a kind man and a good teacher. He could be a bit long-winded with his explanations, but overall he cared for the education of the Golden Deer. In truth, the reason for Marianne's quickly sinking grades wasn't a reflection on his skill for teaching but a reflection on her worsening anxiety. 

The trouble began when Professor Hanneman figured out that she had a Crest. He approached her one day to ask about why her adoptive father had paid off the church to keep it a secret. 

_"Why would a newly-minted noble such as your father wish to conceal the fact that his daughter has a Crest"_ he had said. _"Wouldn't it be more beneficial to not keep it hidden?"_

He was right about that. If things were different, shrewd Margrave Edmund wouldn't hesitate to flaunt about his Crest-borne daughter (even if she wasn't truly his daughter). However, Marianne's crest wasn't to be flaunted. No, far from it. 

Professor Hanneman had guessed correctly that she had no experience training her Crest and insisted that she should, as he put it, learn to safely harbor her talents. 

_Talents…_

Using such a word to describe what her curse of a Crest gave her made her stomach churn.

When Marianne denied having any talents, the Golden Deer professor only pushed up his glasses with a sigh.

_"Oh yes, you do, Miss Marianne. No matter how hard you may try to hide it, my sight is keener than that. And what I see, others will eventually notice as well."_

Their conversation ended soon after, and Marianne had never been so relieved in her life. The relief didn't last long before it was replaced with the reality of the situation. Professor Hanneman knew that she had a Crest. He knew that she was hiding something. What if he ended up finding out about her lineage? Would she be forced to leave the monastery? Would he call her a beast and hunt her until she had nowhere to run? 

Worst of all, what if he was right? That… That others would eventually find out as well. 

Those thoughts and all the other ones that came along with them ruled her head for weeks. They were there when she woke up in the morning thirty minutes late to class and they were there when she lay in bed at night, staring up at the ceiling until the sun rose. 

She couldn't concentrate in any of her classes. All she could focus on was the _horrible_ feeling of being watched. Of having the gaze of a thousand pairs of eyes pierce through her like nails. 

Marianne couldn't even hold a sword without trembling ( _You all right, Marianne_? Hilda would ask). She worried over every single one of her movements whenever she sparred with her classmates. She couldn't give them any reason to believe she had a Crest — she couldn't! 

"Marianne?" Professor Byleth's voice brought Marianne back to reality. She lifted her stare off from her half-eaten meal and onto the professor's dark blue eyes. If Marianne squinted, she might be able to see a flicker of worry flashing through them. 

"Oh, sorry—" Marianne caught herself. "I'm sorry. I was lost in thought." 

"No worries," the professor assured, fingers moving to take a hold of a piece of bread. "As I was saying, I spoke to Hanneman yesterday." 

"You… did?" Marianne said. Her voice slightly wavered as she did. When she told Professor Byleth about her grades, Marianne didn't think she would care enough to ask Professor Hanneman about it. What did he say? He didn't say anything about her crest, did he? No — he gave his word that he wouldn't. 

The professor before her nodded as she took a bite out of the bread. After a moment, she continued, "We talked about ways that we could help you get better."

"Oh," Marianne murmured cautiously. "What do you mean?" 

"Maybe you should consider switching classes," Professor Byleth said. "Hanneman mentioned that you were falling behind in sword training, and I think I can help with that." 

Ah, she just wanted her to switch classes… Wait, what? 

"Um — are you — do you mean that you want me to join _your_ class?" Marianne asked, trying hard not to sputter out the words. 

"Yes." The professor nodded again. "You were a great help last month when you assisted us with our mission. I would love to have you in our class."

A stranger who didn't know the professor might conflate the flatness of her voice with sarcasm, but Marianne could tell that she meant the words that she said.

"Of course, that's only if you want to," she finished. 

A myriad of thoughts burst into Marianne's head. Joining Professor Byleth's class… That would be… 

"I'm not sure about that," Marianne blurted out. "I think I'd only end up burdening everyone." 

Professor Byleth stared at Marianne with her usual, pensive gaze. She responded, "I don't think you would." 

_But you're wrong._

"I'm already not much help to the Golden Deers—" Marianne was interrupted by the professor. 

"Nonsense," she said. 

_Nonsense_? How could she say that so confidently? She didn't—

Marianne forced herself to breath. Without even meaning to, she began to fidget with the charms on the bracelet she wore. She didn't know what else to say except…

"I-I don't understand. Why me?" 

At that question, Professor Byleth looked away from Marianne and out the window to the gardens. 

"I… had many doubts when I was first tasked with teaching you all. I was never very experienced with people, and the idea of staying in one place for an entire year was foreign to me," she explained, her expression unchanging. "But I've grown to like it at the monastery. I think, for the first time, I enjoy what I do. And I look forward to seeing what each day will bring me here."

At the end of her words, the wisp of a smile appeared on the professor's face. It was small, yes, but enough to make her visage seem a bit more… youthful. Marianne blinked at the sight, having been suddenly reminded that the woman was only two or three years older than her. 

"I would like that for you, too, Marianne." Professor Byleth turned back to her. The smile was gone as quickly as it came. "I want you to get everything you can from this experience. However, only _you_ know what's best for _you_. If you join my class, I want it to be because you feel like it would benefit you — not because I want you to." 

All the words Marianne could have used to formulate a response in that moment eluded her. She sat there speechless, the air all but taken from her lungs. 

Professor Byleth didn't bring any attention to her silence, instead picking her spoon back up as though she had finished commenting on something as menial and insignificant.

Before she swallowed another spoonful of soup, she said, "I believe that every student here has an endless amount of potential, including you. I also wish for you to see that one day." 

~•~•~•~

Broaching the topic of switching classes to Claude was one of the most nerve-wracking things she'd ever done in her life. The leader of the Golden Deer was carefree and laid-back. Marianne knew deep down that he'd accept her decision, but that didn't make things any easier.

When she finally forced herself to face him, he laughed. 

_"I already guessed the professor was trying to swipe you out from under our noses. I'll let it go this time, but only if you promise not to stop hanging out with us. Doesn't do good to admit_ total _defeat, yeah?"_

That was the general consensus of the Golden Deer: that Marianne would always be one of them no matter where she went. Their acceptance of her decision lifted a heavy weight from her shoulders. 

_They're not mad. Thank the Goddess, they aren't going to hate me._

These past few months, Marianne developed a sort of bond with her classmates. Although she tried to stay away from them, they never treated her like an outsider. They called her a friend, and that lit up her entire world. But regardless of how she felt, Marianne couldn't think of herself as a friend, as someone lucky enough to be important to another. Hilda, Claude, Ignatz, Lysithea — _everyone_ — they didn't deserve to be at the mercy of her curse. They didn't deserve to have a friend as trying as herself. 

So, no, Marianne couldn't be a friend. That was the only thing she was sure of. 

Leading up to her transfer into the Blue Lions, Marianne didn't feel quite sure of most anything. Was this the right decision? Would the Blue Lions accept her? Sure, they got along when she assisted them during that one mission, but they barely knew her. The student she interacted with the most from the Blue Lions was Mercedes. She was a patient soul, but would Marianne find a way to upset her? 

Marianne did her best to push all her doubts away. She _wanted_ to do this. Really, she had thought long and hard about all the things Professor Byleth had said to her. About how she wanted her to find joy in being at the academy. How she _believed_ in Marianne and wanted her to do the same as well. 

There were three things that Marianne believed in: the Goddess, her curse, and the fact that Professor Byleth was hexed by some malevolence to see things that weren't there. Still, even with all her skepticism, Marianne was curious about what the professor saw in her. What could she have seen to deem the von Edmund girl worthy of believing in. A part of Marianne wanted to know, and, though she would never admit it, she wanted to see what the professor saw too. 

"Good morning, Marianne. You're here early." 

The blue-haired girl flicked her head toward the door. Professor Byleth had walked into the classroom with a bag in tow. 

"I didn't want to be late," she replied, laying her clasped hands onto the desk she sat at. 

"You don't have to be this early." The professor set down her belongings on her own desk and moved to look at the papers on the podium. "No one's here." 

The truth was that Marianne was so restless last night that she woke up two hours before dawn and couldn't go back to sleep. Deciding to make the most of it, she made her way to class earlier than usual. It was a good decision. Waiting in the Blue Lion classroom alone helped to calm her nerves. Only a little though. 

"No need to be nervous," Professor Byleth said, tilting her head as the clock tower signified that there were ten minutes until class began. "Everyone knows you're with us now, and they're very much excited. Mercedes offered to help you throughout the lecture as well." 

"Oh, um, thank you." Marianne bowed her head. At least she wouldn't surprise the Blue Lions with her presence. 

The clock tower rang a second time five minutes before seven o'clock, and a group of three came in through the door. The first person she recognized was Sylvain, his styled, red hair a distinct marker of his. The next person was another male student, Felix. The last was Ingrid, who noticed her right away. 

"Ah, Marianne!" Ingrid greeted, her face lighting up. "It's a pleasure to have you in our class now." 

Before she could reply, Sylvain sent her a nonchalant (maybe rehearsed) wave. "Hey, Marianne. It's always lovely to see one of the prettiest — Ow!" 

"Can you control yourself for just a second?" Ingrid chided while jabbing Sylvain with her elbow. A stern glare replaced her smile. "Apologies, Sylvain's the biggest idiot I know." 

"It's, um, okay?" Marianne was unsure how to respond. 

"C'mon, Ingrid. You can't really think of me like that." 

"I can and I will." 

"Stop trying to deny it," Felix said without missing a beat. "You are an idiot." 

"I really am lucky to have such good friends..." Sylvain sighed as he let himself be dragged by Ingrid to their seats. Felix followed behind them and passed by Marianne without as much as a glance. They sat at the desk behind her.

The next group who walked in was Mercedes, Annette, and Ashe. They immediately went over to Marianne to welcome her. 

"Hey! It's great to see you here!" said Ashe.

"Don't worry if you're nervous. We'll help you in any way we can! Right, Mercie?" Annette added, tugging on her best friend's sleeve. 

"Of course!" Mercedes beamed. "All you have to do is ask." 

Ashe went to sit beside Felix while Mercedes and Annette seated themselves next to Marianne. The three girls engaged in a conversation, and Marianne tried her best to keep up. She was surprised to see that she was, albeit through some divine intervention, managing. 

"What kind of sweets do you like, Marianne?" Annette asked. The girl had an enthusiasm for sweets that reminded Marianne a little of Lysithea. 

"Cookies, um, are good," she answered back.

"I love cookies! Which is your favorite?"

"Well… sugar cookies, I guess?" 

"Ooh, those are sooo good." Annette turned to Mercedes, who sat in between her and Marianne. "We have to bake some for her, Mercie."

"What a wonderful idea!" Mercedes proclaimed as she clapped her hands in solidarity. "Do you like them plain or with frosting?" 

Marianne was in the middle of assuring the two that they didn't have to bake anything for her when the classroom doors once again swung open. This time, only two people walked in: Prince Dimitri and Dedue. 

The prince stifled a laugh as he entered, glancing back at his companion while shaking his head. Dedue merely furrowed his brows, almost as if in confusion. The prince's eyes quickly surveyed the classroom, passing over the professor, Mercedes, and Annette before landing on Marianne. A friendly smile broke across his face, and all she could do was blink at him. He changed course to Mariane's desk. 

Professor Byleth hadn't the need to look up from the podium as she called out, "All right, now that everyone's here, let's begin." 

"Good morning, Annette, Mercedes," the prince nodded at his classmates, then directed his gaze back at Marianne. Her fingers fiddled with her bracelet as she waited for him to speak. "Welcome to the Blue Lions, Marianne. Trust me when I say we are extraordinarily lucky to have you here. If you are ever in need, I would be happy to assist."

For some reason, a shyness had slithered its way into Marianne's body. What happened? She was doing so well a moment ago. She consciously forced herself to say, "Thank you, um… your highness." 

"It is of no issue," he said, a small laugh escaping his lips. The prince promptly pulled out a chair from the desk that resided to her left and sat down beside Dedue. His blonde hair swayed over his face as he retrieved a book from his bag and laid it down. Marianne forced herself to look away. 

The lecture officially began, and thus her first day with the Blue Lions. 


	2. Chapter 2

The professor informed the Blue Lions that Marianne von Edmund would be joining their class a week before it happened. Dimitri was already informed beforehand, so he wasn't surprised. 

"Wow, really?" Annette almost jumped out of her seat when she heard the news. "She's gonna be with us for now on?"

"Yes," their professor answered. 

"That's great! She seems so nice!" Annette proclaimed enthusiastically. These were the moments in which the difference between her and her unsmiling father were palpable. 

"You've barely even as much as heard her speak," Felix remarked. 

Annette rolled her eyes, although not turning around to acknowledge the Fraldarius heir. She leaned her head against one of her hands and grumbled, "She'll be nicer than Felix, that's for sure."

"I, for one—" 

"Don't even think about it, Sylvain." 

"What? Ingrid, you didn't let me finish what I was going to say." 

Dimitri peered into his tactics primer, which he had planned to be halfway done with yesterday. His concentration wavered once more as the intermingling voices of his classmates filled the room. Not letting himself fall into that trap again, Dimitri forced his attention back onto the page he had been trying to read for the last twenty minutes. 

He did well… until he got to the middle of the page and realized he had already forgotten everything. Dimitri, defeated and resigned to his fate, returned to the beginning of the page. Every phrase he read repeated itself multiple times in his head, and yet he was still unable to make sense of anything on the page. 

_Curse my mind._

He ran a hand through his hair, swallowing down a frustrated groan. Perhaps Dedue was right — he should have made the effort to sleep last night. The four consecutive days in which he found himself awake at unearthly hours must have finally been taking their toll. 

"Marianne just has a little trouble talking, that's all," Mercedes said. "But all you have to do is get to know her." 

"In that case, we have to make her some treats," Annette replied. "To make her feel more comfortable, you know." 

"How about you, Dimitri?" 

He laid his hand back down on the desk as he turned to face Mercedes. The healer met him with one of her gentle smiles. He did his best to reciprocate. 

"Are you excited, too?" she asked. Her voice was light and breezy, but undertones of concern lay in it. 

"Of course," he answered, enlivening his expression in an attempt to conceal his addled state. "I welcome the opportunity to have such a talented individual on our team." 

If Mercedes's concern had been allayed by that interaction, she didn't show it. Still, he must have been convincing enough because she didn't say anything about the shadows under his eyes or his slow, sluggish movements.

As class ended and as the Blue Lions shuffled out the door, Professor Byleth requested a moment of Dimitri's time. He backed away from the doorway and walked to the professor's desk, pushing back a frown all the way. It was foolish to think that she wouldn't ask him about his current disposition. These past few months it became clear that the professor and Mercedes were alike in one crucial way — they both possessed a perceptive eye, as evidenced by their ability to identify whenever he was the least bit out of sorts. 

"Dimitri." Professor Byleth pointed her hard stare at the prince, and his mind began turning with all the explanations he had prepared this morning. "I have a meeting with the archbishop now and forgot to give back something I borrowed from Manuela," she explained, reaching into her bag and pulling out a book. "Would you deliver it for me?" 

"I see..." he uttered. "Is that all you need?"

"Yes," the professor said with the same timbre he had heard her say the affirmation many a time before. 

Dimitri sheepishly took the book into his hands. Was that it? Had he worried over nothing? 

"Then I'll go right now." 

"Thank you. And after you're finished, you can take the day to rest." 

Ah, there it was. 

"I'm fine, Professor, truly," he said. "Just a little tired." 

That earned him a silent gaze. Her expression didn't betray any of her thoughts, however, Dimitri somehow knew she was unconvinced. Without a word, Professor Byleth rose from her desk, gathered her supplies, and headed toward the door. She paused before leaving. "That will be my assignment for you today. Don't let me down." 

Dimitri planned on training the evening away, but, at this rate, he might collapse if he did. 

"Will you truly go back to your room to rest, Your Highness?" Dedue asked as they walked side by side through the courtyard. 

"I haven't any other option," Dimitri sighed. 

Although he wasn't fond of the fact, it was true. At times like these, he wished there existed an elixir that could somehow nullify the need for sleep. There were only so many hours in each day, and Dimitri struggled to justify wasting them doing nothing. 

_If Dedue heard me say that, no doubt I'd get a scolding._

Dimitri already knew what his loyal companion would say: _How can you expect to reach your goals if you are too exhausted to walk?_

To Dimitri, sleep was little more than a necessity. Something he had to do in order to replenish his energy. Looking at people like Lindhardt, who regarded sleep with a religious reverence, made him wonder what it was like to actually _enjoy_ the thing. Dimitri didn't enjoy sleeping; he didn't have pleasant dreams where nothing but pleasant things could happen. He didn't wake up in the morning fully at peace, listening to the songbirds. No, sleep to him was something to _endure_. 

But endure it he must if he should ever get anywhere. 

_I have a purpose to fulfill, and I can't do it if I'm not strong enough._

"Should I accompany you to the infirmary?" suggested Dedue after they had entered the Black Eagles' classroom with the hope that Professor Manuela was there. She was not, but Edelgard directed them to the infirmary — not without a _"I trust you and your house are hard at work. Don't forget that the Battle of the Eagle and Lion is approaching, and also that we do not intend on going easy on any of you."_

Dimitri tried his hardest not to laugh in response. Edelgard always did have a _very_ fiery competitive spirit. 

"No, that won't be necessary," Dimitri responded. "Mercedes is teaching you how to bake something today, isn't she? You wouldn't want to miss that." 

Dedue paused to give it some thought. "She will understand if I'm late." 

"I assure you that I won't faint in the middle of the courtyard, Dedue. I'll be fine," he said, chuckling. 

It took another minute of reassurance for Dedue to go on his way to meet Mercedes. With his absence, the only thing that accompanied Dimitri was a late summer breeze. He closed his eyes as it swirled around him, letting its cool relief sweep over him. It wasn't long before he felt himself start to sway, so he decided not to waste anymore time trekking to the infirmary. 

The book Professor Byleth lent from the physician was, judging from the title, an introductory to white magic. It was rather voluminous and thus likely intimidated many fledgling healers in its day. Despite that, Dimitri had no doubt the professor hadn't been the least bit phased. Honestly, he envied her ability to learn new mediums of battle so instantly. 

Dimitri approached the entrance to the infirmary, passing Professor Manuela's book to his left hand as he reached out to the doorknob with his right. The moment his foot passed the threshold, he heard a cry. 

"Hey!" 

A bang, a clang, and a thump. The next thing he knew, Dimitri was on the floor, rolls of bandages unraveling around him. 

"Sorry! Sorry! I'm so—"

"Marianne!" the same voice who he had initially heard was at the scene in an instant. "You okay? Don't tell me you're hurt." 

"I-I'm fine," the blue-haired girl beside him stammered, face blanched as if she had seen a ghost. 

"What about you, Prince Dimitri?" the voice now directed itself at him. "Nothing's broken, right?" 

He faced the concerned owner of the voice, recognizing her as Hilda of House Goneril, a noble in the Golden Deer and Claude's trusted friend. "No… No, nothing's broken." 

"Oh, thank goodness!" Hilda let out a sigh of relief, wiping a hand over her forehead. "For a minute there, I thought _I'd_ have to patch you both up." 

In the corner of his eye, Dimitri spotted an object being shoved his way. He turned to find Marianne von Edmund, eyes downcast, holding out Professor Manuela's book to him. Her hands trembled. 

"I'm sorry," she managed to say. "I fell and — and, well, I don't know what happened. Please forgive me." 

A stool lay overturned at her feet while a small crate was situated between them. In the crate were a few rolls of bandages, the rest of them spread out about the floor. Dimitri surmised that she had slipped while placing the crate on a shelf next to the door right as he walked in. 

"Ah, there's no need to apologize," he quickly said, taking the book. "It was an accident." 

Marianne's shoulders slumped as if a weight had been taken off them. She murmured another apology before gathering up the bandages. Dimitri merely watched for a few seconds then remembered himself. He set Professor Manuela's book aside to help, which earned a look from Marianne. He didn't have much time to decipher the thoughts from her flustered expression because she looked away in haste. 

"Looks like we're going to have to wrap these back up again," Hilda noted, winding a roll she had picked up. 

"Um, you don't have to help," said Marianne, referring to Dimitri. Ever since the first time Dimitri heard her speak (which wasn't even to him but to Claude) he was struck with how quiet she spoke. He always imagined that her voice, soft and light, feathered through the air to alight upon unsuspecting ears. On that account, it was impossible to envision her speaking in a tone louder than the ring of a sleigh bell. Well, that was until last month's mission, where Dimitri heard her shout for the first time. 

"It's all right. I want to," he assured, handing her a roll. Her fingers grazed his as she took it. 

"Great, thanks!" Hilda hummed with delight. "We'll clean up this mess waaay faster with you at our side." 

"I'm really sorry for all of this, Hilda," Marianne sighed. "I know we were just about to finish." 

Hilda lifted the crate from Marianne's hands and placed another roll inside. "You don't have to say sorry so much. Everything's fine. Right, Prince Dimitri?" she said. 

"Yes, of course. It's no trouble at all, truly," Dimitri agreed, offering the Edmund girl what he hoped was a reassuring smile. She glanced at him then returned to rewrapping a roll quietly. "And just 'Dimitri' is all right." 

"See? Just fine." Hilda nodded. 

They spent the next few minutes cleaning up the rest of the bandages. Once they were done, Dimitri set the crate back on its place on shelf and all was well again. Hilda and Marianne thanked him, the latter apologizing to him a fifth time. And when he repeated that there was nothing to forgive, she apologized a sixth time. 

Professor Manuela happened to walk through the door at the end of all that, and Dimitri was reminded of his reason for being at the infirmary. 

"Oh, I forgot all about that book." Professor Manuela tossed the introductory to white magic onto her desk, where it made a solid _thunk_ on impact. "Thanks for the help, Your Highness. Now, if you'll excuse us, the girls and I have some work to do." 

"I'll be on my way, then," Dimitri said, preparing to take his leave. 

Something in the back of his mind gnawed at him as soon as he got halfway through the door. What was it? Did he forget to do something? He delivered the book; that was all he needed to do. Except… 

"Marianne?" 

She halted her steps and turned to face him — not just _facing_ him but _looking_ at him — with an uncertain look in her eyes. "Yes?"

Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, but in that moment he forgot whatever he was going to say as her muted brown eyes locked with his. "I was informed about your transfer," he willed out, forcing a smile. "I look forward to having you in the Blue Lions."

The uncertainty in her eyes melted away to something softer — something more relaxed. He thought he might see her smile, but she bowed her head instead. 

"Thank you," she said, her voice landing lightly upon his ears. 

~•~•~•~

Dimitri felt better these past few days than in the weeks prior. His mind was clearer, the nightmares died down in frequency, and the voices reverted back into a low hum. 

The chaos surrounding the assassination plot last month brought forth a great deal of bad memories for him. Not only once did he wake up in the middle of the night, shaking and panting, clawing at the invisible hands on his neck, pleading for his father's ghost to wait a bit longer. 

_Please, Father. Just a bit longer. I will get your justice soon._

_"...'Soon,' you say? How much longer am I supposed to wait? My son, have you become blind to my suffering!? To our suffering!?"_

Time. Goddess, he needed more time. He came to the academy to find his vengeance, but most of his attention had to be poured toward his studential duties. There was no time in the day to seek the truth, so he did so at night. Dimitri habitually haunted the library during twilight, scouring document after document. He hadn't found anything noteworthy yet. If only he had more time, then maybe he might—

"You're improving," Professor Byleth said as she hung a wooden sword back on its rack. 

Dimitri finished wiping the sweat off his face with a cloth before saying, "Not as quickly as I'd like." 

"Everyone improves at their own rate." The professor shrugged. "But, in my opinion, you're already making a lot of progress for someone who hasn't trained often with a sword." 

Her words of encouragement rang hollow to him, even if she did mean them. Dimitri had no time to progress at his own rate. He had to improve as fast as he could to appease the voices of the dead. 

"I suppose," the prince sighed, "the only thing I can do is try harder." 

Professor Byleth didn't respond, instead looking at the giant doors leading out from the training grounds. Dimitri knew her long enough to understand that that was a prelude to her departure. She didn't care much for farewells, ending conversations in a rather abrupt way. Although, to her, it probably didn't feel abrupt at all. 

"I have a favor to ask you," she said. 

He rolled his shoulders, releasing the tension in his body that built up during training. "What is it?"

"You've heard that Annette injured her hand." He did. Apparently, it occurred during an incident in the kitchen that resulted in the entire dining hall being evacuated. The professor continued, "Well, there is now a vacancy in a group task that needs to be filled" 

"When is it?" Dimitri asked. A voice creeped up into the back of his head. 

_"What are you doing, boy? There's not enough time."_

_Just wait a little longer. Please._

Professor Byleth shook her head. "It's to help the gardeners with weeding on Friday evening." She stopped, as if she was finished with her statement, then added, "You'll be working with Marianne." 

_"There's not enough time. How can you stand there as we're—"_

Dimitri took in a deep breath. "I'll be there," he decided. 

The professor silently thanked him with a nod. She left the training grounds, and his company from there on out consisted of the voices of the dead. 

~•~•~•~

Friday evening came quickly. He met Marianne at the classroom, and they made their way to the gardener who oversaw them. Their walk was quiet; he made a few attempts at conversations, but none of them bore fruit. 

In the week that Marianne had been with the Blue Lions, she seemed to be adjusting well. Mercedes and Annette did all they could to make her feel welcome. She appeared to be growing close to them, her voice being more frequently heard in their conversations. Just yesterday, they gifted her a bag of cookies just yesterday, which Marianne gingerly accepted with a tiny smile. 

_"Marianne!"_ Annette had blurted out, startling the other girl. _"You have a lovely smile!"_

Dimitri… would be dishonest if he said he hadn't thought the same. But it was only a fleeting observation. 

Now, walking next to Marianne in complete and utter silence, he began to wreck his mind for ways to break the ice. Maybe she, like Ashe, found his status intimidating. Though frustrating, Dimitri understood the reluctance to treat the prince as one would treat a normal friend. 

Or it was just as possible that she preferred the silence. That wouldn't be too hard to believe, considering she would always be there during his occasional nightly excursions to the cathedral. The place was shockingly quiet at nighttime. Maybe that was what she liked about it. 

Should he start with that? 

"Do you like the silence, Marianne?" Dimitri asked. 

The girl beside him blinked then slowly began to frown, and Dimitri realized that he should have thought of a better question to ask. 

"I'm—" he started. 

"Am I—" she said simultaneously. 

They both stopped, waiting for the other to speak first. After a span of uncertainty, Dimitri spoke first. "What were you about to say?" 

"Oh, um…" Marianne looked at her feet, fidgeting with something on her hand. A bracelet? "Am I making you uncomfortable?" 

"Me? No, you're not," he answered, confusion hiding beneath his tone. "Have I done something to make you feel that way?" 

"Well, you—" she paused, as though to gather her thoughts, then continued. "I know I don't talk a lot. And sometimes people find silence uneasy, so…" 

"I see," Dimitri said. "I don't mind silence. It's peaceful, especially after a long day." He took a breath. "But I suppose if I seem uneasy it's because I worry that I'm the one making you uncomfortable." 

Marianne furrowed her brows, as if trying to deduce whether or not what she just heard was a hallucination. "I guess I am a bit uneasy myself — but it's not you," she finally said. "I-I find talking in general stressful. I'm sorry that I made you feel bad." 

_Another apology._

"No need to apologize. It was a misunderstanding, that's all," Dimitri assured. 

Once they met with the gardener, she informed them that they would be weeding the courtyard. Both he and Marianne had already worked with the gardeners in the past, so they went to work without delay. 

Dimitri tied a dark green apron over his uniform and shrugged on a pair of thick gloves. Alongside him, Marianne followed suit, removing a bracelet from her wrist before putting on her glove. 

"Is that a charm bracelet?" Dimitri asked. 

She appeared to regard his question as unexpected. Holding the silver bracelet in her other hand, its various charms glittering in the sunlight, she answered, "Yes, it was gifted to me by my mother. I've had it for years." 

"It's very beautiful." He smiled. 

Marianne's eyes glanced at him then went back to her bracelet. Her thumb feathered over the chain as she tentatively held it out to him. Confusion gripped him until the realization that she intended to show it to him struck. "This one's a bird… and this one's a flower." 

She trailed off, trusting he could figure out the rest himself. A leaf, a sun, a crescent moon, and the sign of the church. When she finished rotating through them all, his smile widened. Could this be her way of saying that she was warming to him? 

"They're all very well-made. Though, I'm sure your mother wouldn't have settled for less," he said. 

All of his thoughts and senses ceased at the moment he saw the corners of Marianne's lips draw upwards, forming a tiny smile. There was nothing he could do except blink. 

_Lovely_ . He repeated Annette's words in his mind. _And yet… a bit sad?_

"Thank you," Marianne replied while dropping the bracelet into the pocket of her apron. "She would definitely agree."

The gardener came to relieve them of their task after two hours of work. Despite his aching back, Dimitri couldn't say that he didn't enjoy himself. Most of that was due to Marianne. Things were better between them, more relaxed, than during their walk. They didn't have many conversations, the ones they did separated by blocks of silence, but they were good conversations. For someone who seemed to dislike her skills at making conversation so much, Dimitri appreciated her approach to it.

He got the sense that Marianne didn't make small talk. She didn't talk about things she really had no interest in. Even when commenting on something as menial as the weather, she did so because she cared — not to fill up the air for the sake of it. After having dealt with so many prattling nobles in his life, Dimitri liked to have conversations where each shared word had a meaning. 

By the time he had to return his apron and gloves, Dimitri found himself somewhat disappointed that everything would soon be over. He didn't know why. Marianne would be in his class for the foreseeable future, they'd have plenty of chances to talk. 

"Good work," he said after removing his gloves. "If you'd like, I can report to the professor while — Marianne?" 

The girl beside him clutched at her apron, a fraught expression affecting the face he had seen smile a moment ago. Her gaze was stuck to the floor, but it was clear she wasn't looking at it. 

"What?" She flicked her head up. "Can you say that again?" 

"Did something happen?" Dimitri asked, concerned. 

"...You needn't worry yourself over it."

"Perhaps so, but I want to. Please, I am here to help with whatever you need." 

Marianne held the apron to her stomach as she bit her lip in thought. She sighed then said, "My bracelet is gone. There was a hole in the apron's pocket, and… I guess it fell out without me noticing." 

So that was it. A pang of empathy resonated through Dimitri's heart. The only thing he had of his birth mother was her wedding ring. He couldn't even begin to forgive himself if it ever got lost. Maybe Marianne felt the same with her bracelet. Maybe it aided her in staving off homesickness. 

"I think I'm going back to the courtyard to look for it," Marianne said. "I-I hope it's not too much of a hassle for you to report to the professor alone?"

"It wouldn't be." Dimitri shook his head. "But I'd much rather help you search, if you'll allow it." 

"I'm sure you have better things to do than help me."

"I'm not sure such things exist, Marianne." 

A pause.

"All right…" Marianne pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Um, I really appreciate it. Thank you."

He thought that finding the bracelet wouldn't take more than a few minutes, but he was proven very wrong. He and Marianne were searching for half an hour at this point, and there was still no sign of the accessory. 

No matter. It had to be here somewhere. They were bound to come across it on their next scour of the premises. 

A gust of wind bustled past the courtyard, tousling the grass as well as Dimitri's hair. He parted a patch of grass, and, after finding nothing but dirt, he moved on to another patch. A tap on the shoulder pulled him out of concentration. 

"I think that's enough for now," Marianne said, closing her eyes.

"Are you sure?" Dimitri responded. "I have no issue looking for a bit longer." 

She nodded. "The sun's about to go down anyway. We might as well stop now." 

"Well, then… I'm sorry, Marianne."

"It's not your fault." 

_It isn't yours either_ , he wanted to say back, however, another voice abruptly entered into their conversation. 

"You two do realize it's about to be time for dinner, right?" 

Sure enough, Professor Byleth stood over them with her usual dispassionate expression. A fly flew in front of her face, and she swatted it away. 

"Apologies, Professor," Dimitri said. It had completely left his mind that she was waiting for their report. "You see, Marianne lost something of hers and we forgot the time searching for it."

The professor shrugged. "Did you find it?"

"No. We were just about to give up," Marianne answered.

Professor Byleth looked at Marianne. She wore a frown. "Maybe it is best to let it go for now. In my experience, lost things are harder to find when you look for them."

"I guess so." Marianne rose up from the ground, dusting off dirt and pieces of grass from her uniform. Although he wished to search more, Dimitri got up as well. 

"Come," the professor beckoned them with a gesture. "Let's get something to eat." 

"All right," the blue haired girl said as she placed herself next to their teacher. The professor trained her gaze back on Dimitri, expectant. 

"Thank you for the invitation, but I was hoping to drop by the library before getting dinner," he explained. 

Both Professor Byleth and Marianne accepted his refusal, and they lingered in the courtyard to exchange a few more words before the two went off to the dining hall. Dimitri watched them leave, not knowing if he was imagining the change in Marianne's steps. 

"Are you sure you're not hungry?" Tomas the librarian asked as he passed by Dimitri. The library, with all it's stillness and bookcases, was nearly empty except for a few students who decided to study throughout supper. 

"No, thank you for asking," the prince said, looking up from his book. 

Dimitri felt as though that was a sufficient answer, yet Tomas continued to study him. 

"Is something the matter?" It was his turn to ask a question. 

"You seem distracted," Tomas said. 

He wasn't wrong. Every few seconds, Dimitri would think about Marianne and her bracelet. About the anxiety in her eyes when she figured out it was lost. About her crestfallen demeanor after their search ending up being futile. 

He tried to push it out from his thoughts — his time at the library had to take priority — but the matter kept plaguing him. Why was he so preoccupied with this? It was an unfortunate situation, yes, but not something to be so torn up about.

...Still, the bracelet seemed like a treasured item. It must be a horrible feeling to not know if it was gone for the moment or gone forever. 

"I am," Dimitri sighed. "Someone I know lost a gift from her mother, and I worry how she might be feeling right now." 

"Lost something, you say?" Tomas raised an eyebrow. "It wouldn't happen to be a bracelet, would it?" 

"Actually, yes." The book Dimitri was reading all at once lost its pull. "How did you know?" 

"A student gave me one earlier today. I believe he said it was lying on the ground," the librarian recalled, scratching his chin. 

"Do you still have it?" 

"I left it at my desk." 

In just a few seconds, Dimitri had a silver bracelet in his hands. He studied the charms, running a finger over their etchings. A bird, a flower, a leaf, a sun, a crescent moon, and the sign of the church. 

"This is it, Tomas," Dimitri said, unable to hide the relief in his voice. "Thank you! She'll be overjoyed." 

Tomas gave his own smile. "Off you go, then. I'll set aside your books for when you come back." 

He quickly mulled over his offer, then accepted it, sprinting through the exit. The books he took out today were nothing of note — at least to the naked eye. Tomas wouldn't be able to glean anything from them. 

The dining hall was packed with students, knights, and faculty alike, as it always was during this time of day. The aroma of various stew, fish, and meat dishes entered his nose and dropped into his stomach. They reminded him that he hadn't eaten anything since midday. Pushing back his growing hunger, Dimitri surveyed the dining hall for a glimpse of light blue hair. 

"Your Highness, what's up?" Sylvain came up from behind him and slung an arm over his shoulder. Dimitri didn't have to look at his childhood friend to be sure of his identity. 

"Sylvain, have you seen Marianne?" Dimitri asked, continuing his search. 

"Yeah," Sylvain said. "She's over there with the professor. Why? Don't tell me you've finally—" 

"Hold that thought." 

Dimitri broke away from Sylvain and went straight for a table in the corner of the room. The closer he got, the more he was able to see the professor and Marianne dining alone together. The professor noticed him first. 

"Dimitri," Professor Byleth said once he was in earshot. "Where's your plate?" 

"I'll get it in a moment," he replied, turning to Marianne, who seemed flustered to have so suddenly gained his attention. "Before that, I have good news." 

"Good news?" Marianne echoed in her quiet voice, unaware of the object he held. 

With a smile would definitely make his cheeks hurt later, Dimitri presented the bracelet to her. Her expression beamed with recognition. 

"Tomas the librarian had it. Can you believe it?" He couldn't help but chuckle. 

Marianne's fingers hovered over the bracelet, staring at in disbelief. Once she let herself touch it, the disbelief dissolved into an immensity of relief. Gasping, Marianne took hold of her bracelet. 

"I — You found it." She let out a shaky breath that almost sounded like a laugh. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" 

Marianne gazed up at him with gratitude, unabashingly looking into his eyes. Dimitri felt the words get caught up in his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm glad that it's in your possession again… truly. 

A smile spread across Marianne's face, this time without an ounce of sadness. He would have stood there gawking at her like an idiot if Professor Byleth hadn't spoken up. 

"Now that that's figured out," she said, giving the barest of smiles. "Go get some food so we can celebrate." 

"Celebrate? Of course," Dimitri laughed again. 

He turned around to walk toward the kitchen, his mind up in the clouds. He felt like he had won some victory even though there was no tournament or battle in sight. It was a peculiar feeling, to say the least. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3! Can I get a woot woot!
> 
> Disclaimer: There is some violence and blood in this chapter. Not too much I think, but just so you know!

Quiet murmuring and shuffling pages sounded through the library. Marianne sat on the top floor with Claude and Hilda, paper dotted with ink strewn around them. 

Beside her, Claude rested his feet on the surface of their table, his chair teetering on it's back legs. The treatise on sorcery he had placed over his face threatened to fall with each one of his movements. Marianne watched him, patiently waiting, as he let out a deep and dramatic sigh, the sound muffled by decade old paper. 

"I feel like we've been doing this for hours," Claude said. 

"I think it's only been thirty minutes," Marianne replied. 

From the opposite side of the table, Hilda grumbled. She buried her face deeper into the bend of her arm. "This is hopeless. We might as well give up now." 

"That's not true." Marianne shook her head. "It just, um, takes a few tries to get it." 

The pink-haired girl gave another grumble. "That's what you said last time," she said. "You get this stuff because you're good at magic."

Frowning, Marianne said, "Both you and Claude are really smart. I'm sure you'll get it if you keep trying." 

At that, the house leader of the Golden Deer lifted the treatise from his face and planted his feet back on the floor. "All right, complaining won't get us anywhere. Let's get back into it,"

"But Claude—" 

"Come on, Marianne's giving up her precious time to help us. We shouldn't waste it." 

"Ugh… fine." 

The two straightened in their seats, took up their quills once again, and turned to Marianne, ready to take notes. She looked down into the pages of the book before her, beginning to go over the formula in it a third time. 

In two days, the Golden Deer would be facing a black magic exam. Professor Hanneman liked to give such things out frequently, citing that magic can be a useful tool in many situations on the battlefield. A number of the Golden Deer — specifically Claude, Hilda, and Raphael — struggled with them. They figured out early on that they needed someone to help them study, and that person was more often than not Marianne. She, understanding that their options were a bit slim, didn't mind. Lysithea had a tendency to be too technical in her explanations, while Lorenz was… Lorenz. And although Marianne was sure that her knowledge in black magic couldn't compare to theirs, she tried to help however she could. 

Being around Hilda and Claude like this almost made her forget that she wasn't a Golden Deer anymore. She hadn't been for two weeks now. 

"Claude," Hilda began in the middle of their study break. "Did you manage to convince Professor Hanneman to keep me on the sidelines for this month's mission?" 

The boy laughed. "The only thing I got out of him was an earful. Looks like he's used to your tactics." 

"I thought so. Well, thanks for trying," she responded, going back to doodling on a piece of paper. 

Inclining his head, Claude pointed the end of his quill toward Marianne, who frowned on instinct. "That reminds me… Marianne, your class's mission is next week, right?"

"It is," Marianne confirmed. 

"I can't be there to protect you anymore, so you have to make sure to be careful," he said. 

Marianne felt a warmth nip at her soul. Claude always took it upon herself to look after her. At first, she thought it was because he wanted to uncover her secrets, but now she believed that he genuinely cared. It… It made her happy, yet she couldn't dismiss the fear that spurred along with the feeling. 

"You don't have to worry about me." She eyed the grooves in the table. 

"Actually, I do," Claude said, leaving no room for argument. "Anyway, I had His Princeliness promise from the depths of his heart to have your back in my stead — I might have also threatened him with a scheme, but that hardly matters." 

She froze. _Oh, Goddess... Prince Dimitri?_

Her bracelet lightly scraped across the table, calling upon the memory of a bright smile. 

"Claude…" 

"Don't worry about it. I've seen him break a lance clean in half from _accidently_ banging it on the ground. I think he can handle fighting for two if it comes down to it."

That wasn't what she was worried about. She was — Oh, nevermind! 

"L-Let's just get back to studying." She gave up, opening one of the books on the table. Claude raised an eyebrow at her, which she ignored. 

Hilda groaned in distaste, but reached for another book anyway. 

~•~•~•~

Marianne was running late. She hurried down the steps of the dormitory, filled with students getting ready to attend their classes, through the reception hall, and around the Knights' Hall until finally arriving at one of the back gates of Garreg Mach that led to an orchard. 

_Here we are._

Marianne slowed to catch her breath while beneath her feet stones of differing shapes and sizes passed by, moss growing between the spaces where they were laid to create a cobblestone path. 

In the distance, the green leaves of the trees in the orchard waved at her with the help of the wind, back and forth, to and fro. A smile sneaking onto Marianne's face, she waved back. It was absolutely nonsensical to greet a couple of trees — that hadn't escaped her mind — but she couldn't help herself. As far as she was aware, there was no one there to witness the peculiar act. Thus, there was no reason to worry about how she might be perceived. 

_"Are you waving at the trees again?"_ Margrave Edmund's voice reverberated in her mind like a funeral toll. _"Please, Dear, what would people think if they saw."_

_"I… I don't know."_

_"They would think you're touched in the head, that's what."_

Shaking the memory from her head, Marianne recentered her focus. She had no time to think about anything else — not if she wanted to find Fifi, feed her, and get to class on time. 

She abandoned the path, walking into the thicket adjacent to it. Cobblestone stone was replaced with grass. Twigs snapped underneath the weight of every one of her steps. Bushes brushed against her arms and legs as she pushed her way through them. She didn't realize that she had already reached her destination until the sound of a meow stopped her in her tracks. 

Marianne turned around to see a cat, its coat speckled with black and orange fur, sitting on top of a tree stump. Familiar yellow eyes stared at her, and Marianne knew she had found her friend. 

"Fifi, I'm here — like I said I would!" she beamed, approaching the cat.

Fifi meowed in response. 

"Sorry, I can't stay long," Marianne quickly explained. "My classes will be starting soon." 

Fifi's ear twitched, her head lowering. 

"I'll make it up to you later, but right now let's go to your kittens." 

Her feline friend sat for a moment longer on the stump before hopping down. Fifi was as large as many of the cats at the monastery, her head almost reaching the middle of Marianne's calves when standing. She had a thick coat that made her look bigger than she really was as well as afflicted her with many knots. Marianne spent many hours trying to detangle them all. 

Fifi started to walk away and Marianne followed closely behind. They arrived at the kittens' hiding place, a small crevice between a rock, a tree, and a bush, soon after. 

Marianne peeked through the top of the bush, a smile returning to her face as she spotted various tiny paws and ears. 

Fifi had only given birth but a week and a half ago, but the kittens were already starting to look drastically different from the little things she had once seen. There were three in total — Doro, Pippa, and Shelly. All three names were decided upon by her and Fifi. Marianne had thrown out a couple of names at Fifi, and a lick of the paw or twitch of the nose had helped her determine if the cat approved. 

The first time Marianne met Fifi, she had driven away the birds she was feeding. Marianne gave her a "hello" and she meowed a "hello" back. They became close friends after that, with Marianne talking to her about how her day went or, sometimes, about when something was bothering her. Fifi always listened to what she had to say — even when it was senseless rubbish. 

"Here." Marianne reached into the bag she had taken with her when she left her room, and set down a handkerchief filled with dried meat. "Eat up so you and your kittens can grow big and strong." 

Fifi gave the meat a few sniffs then began to eat. Marianne reached into her bag a second time. 

"I finished with the collars I told you about," she said. "I know I asked you this before, but do you still want them?" 

The speckled cat looked up from her meal and purred. Marianne took that as a yes. 

One by one, starting with Fifi, she placed the collars onto their respective owners. They were simple things, bands of yellow, plaid fabric that she sewed ribbons onto. Fifi nuzzled Marianne's hand as she slipped the collar over her head while the kittens merely blinked at her. Their fur, a multitude of black, white, and orange, was starting to grow thicker. It had occurred to her once that there might have been more kittens at a certain point, but she couldn't bear to think of it any further. 

After Marianne checked that the collars weren't too tight, she bid Fifi and her family farewell, trekking through the thicket and stepping back onto the cobblestone path. From there, she sped to the Blue Lions' classroom. 

Marianne slid into her seat with five minutes to spare, sputtering out a breathless 'thank you' when Professor Byleth welcomed her to class. Mercedes and Annette both smiled at her as they did every morning since she transferred. They hadn't changed seats either, always being only a word away if she ever missed a sentence during a lecture or needed help with a problem. That didn't mean Marianne actually did ask them for help — she would feel too much like a bother — but she appreciated that they were there. 

In all honesty, she felt a little guilty. They wasted so much of their kindness on her. Everyday she had to bite back the urge to tell them that she didn't deserve their compassion — that one day they would see that everything would be better if they hadn't met her at all. But she couldn't say such things, so she merely met their kindness with her best attempt at a smile. 

"Good morning, Marianne," a voice coming from her left said. 

There was also another regular occurrence in her life now: Prince Dimitri sitting in his usual seat at the desk directly next to hers, a soft smile on his face as he asked after her morning.

Before the incident with her bracelet, they had only exchanged two or three words before the start of class. Now, they had something more akin to conversations more frequently. Talking to the prince flustered her, but not in a way that ceased her thoughts and squeezed her throat shut. 

It was strange. Marianne wondered why he even bothered to talk to someone like her — as well as why she felt a pinch of joy whenever he did. 

"Good morning," she replied, still trying to regain her composure from running. "Um… D-Dimitri?" 

Something flickered in his eyes at the sound of his name, but his chuckle distracted her from it. He glanced away to the side. "If it would be more comfortable for you to call me something else, then please do so. It wouldn't bother me, truly." 

Marianne considered his words for a second. Yesterday, Prince Dimitri asked her to call him by just his name rather than the titles she awkwardly stammered out, unsure of how to use. 

_"Here, I am nothing more than an average student,"_ he had said. _"So, please, don't feel as though you have to treat me differently than you would another."_

It was a simple request; Claude had once asked the same of her as well. With the heir of House Riegan, it was much easier to throw away the veil of propriety. Things, however, were different with Prince Dimitri. Aside from variances between Faerghus and Leicester nobility, Marianne attributed her difficulty with the fact that she didn't know the prince like she knew Claude. 

Claude was a schemer, always cooking up some plan in his head. Marianne knew that he had trouble learning magic, that he was allergic to shellfish but still ate them anyway, that the thought of not being in control frustrated him to no end. 

To her, Claude was Claude, whereas Prince Dimitri… Well, he seemed perfect. Kind, strong, honorable, and valiant — traits possessed by every storybook knight she had ever read about, and he had all of those. When Marianne looked at the prince, that was the first thing she saw. 

Coming to that realization, Marianne was self-aware enough to recognize the fault in her line of thinking. Prince Dimitri wasn't a knight in a storybook. He was a _real_ person with likes and dislikes, flaws and fears. The image of a boy in the monastery's cathedral, praying so hard that he trembled, flashed before her eyes whenever she thought about it. 

It wasn't fair to project such expectations of perfection on him. Maybe that was one of the things he struggled with, having to navigate the world with a thousand expectations on his shoulders. 

Marianne lifted her gaze from her fidgeting fingers and directed it toward the prin— 

Toward Dimitri. Yes, Dimitri, whose name she inwardly repeated ten times in practice for saying it aloud. 

"No, um, it's all right. I like Dimitri," Marianne said, dragging out the name from her mouth with a surprising resoluteness. Her cheeks warmed as soon as half a second passed. Was that a strange thing to say? She avoided looking at his expression in case it was true. 

From the corner of her eyes, Dimitri shifted in his seat, resting an elbow on the desk. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. 

Marianne nodded. She didn't know what to say next, so she looked at the charms on her bracelet. Dimitri didn't seem to mind. 

When class ended, Annette ran off to the kitchen, being one of the first people to leave. The mage was bustling to get back into her daily routine as soon as her injured hand had healed. 

As Marianne gathered her things and prepared to leave, Mercedes stopped her. 

"Are you going to the cathedral?" she asked. 

"Oh, I am," Marianne answered. 

She and Mercedes had found themselves using the same path to get to the cathedral many times after class. It was awkward in the beginning — at least for Marianne — since they had traded goodbyes barely a minute ago. However, at a certain point, Mercedes and Marianne just started walking together. 

They were in the middle of the courtyard when Mercedes gasped, a hand jolting to her heart. In an instance, Marianne's body tensed, her hands balling into fights and her feet planting themselves firmly on the ground. She looked at Mercedes, scrambling to identify the danger, but what she saw was a grin. 

"Dimitri, is that our little visitor?" She wrapped a hand around Marianne's arm and pulled her toward a corner in the courtyard, where Dimitri knelt alongside a… 

Fifi? 

Dimitri turned around, eyes flickering between Mercedes and Marianne, and smiled. "Yes, seems like she's looking for pets again." 

Fifi, who was lying on the grass, watched the two healers draw nearer. However, she seemed to grow bored of that, as she nudged Dimitri's hand with her head to get his attention. He looked back at Fifi, petting her back. 

"How precious! It's been quite some time since she wandered into our classroom," Mercedes cooed. "Is that a collar? Has she been adopted?" 

"Perhaps. It seems to be rather new," he said. 

Marianne raised an eyebrow at the thought that she adopted Fifi. That wasn't what she had in her mind when she made the collars — she thought it would look cute. Marianne liked the idea of taking care of Fifi, but Fifi always struck her as a cat that preferred freedom more than anything. 

Fifi rose from the grass, nuzzled Dimitri's hand, then walked to Marianne. Plopping down on her hind legs, she stretched her front paws up to the sky, and Marianne bent down to pick her up without thinking. 

"Do you two know each other?" Dimitri asked, standing up, the sun falling behind his head to create a gold halo. 

Marianne nodded as she ran a hand down the cat's head.

"This is Fifi, my friend," she said, cringing right after. 

Was it weird to refer to a cat as one's friend? She did so all the time, but mostly in her head. On top of that, Fifi was a name that she had given to her. What if the cat actually had a different name? What would she say then? What— 

"Fifi," Dimitri repeated. Fifi meowed at him, and he scratched behind her ear with a chuckle. "A fitting name." 

Marianne couldn't look at him. Not with all the blood that suddenly rushed to her face. Her mind reached out wildly for something to say. "She just had, um, kittens not too long ago."

"She did? Oh my!" Mercedes exclaimed. "I can't imagine how cute they must be!" 

"We could…" Marianne adjusted her hold on Fifi. "We could try and see if Fifi will show them to us. 

"Really? She would be fine with that?" 

"I think she knows you're not going to hurt them, so hopefully." 

Mercedes turned to Dimitri. "You'll accompany us, won't you?" 

Their house leader gave Fifi one more scratch then said, "I would love to."

"Then it's settled," she laughed, patting the other girl's shoulder. "Show us the way, Marianne!" 

~•~•~•~ 

Her heartbeat hammered against her chest, threatening to burst out, as she dove onto the cold, stone floor below. A crash sounded behind her, the shock wave accosting every one of her nerves, fragments of rock flying overhead. 

A hand gripped Marianne's arm and wrenched her back onto her feet. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to mollify the sting of dust in them. 

"Are you hurt?"

She shook her head. 

"Keep away from the frontlines!" Professor Byleth then yelled over a deathly roar. Marianne felt herself being pushed away, an orange glow flying into the opposite direction. 

There was another roar. 

Trying to ignore the churning in the pit of her stomach, Marianne ran over rivulets of blood and dead bodies. Her mind scrambled to make sense of what she had just seen: Miklan, the man they were sent to battle against, morphing into a monster. 

One moment, he was brandishing the stolen hero's relic, smirking at Sylvain with a tangible bitterness. The next, he was wailing in a mixture of terror and pain as his body became enveloped by dark tendrils, the glow of the relic's Crest stone violently bright. 

Goddess, what happened? Why did the tendrils come out of the Crest stone? 

In her confusion, Marianne's foot caught itself on a piece of broken stone. She went tumbling down, her shoulder crashing against the ground first. 

She fumbled to get back up and was almost on her feet when the glint of metal caught her eye. Marianne jerked her head up, coming face to face with a shaking man who had a fatal grip on a sword. She recognized quickly that he wasn't one of the monastery's soldiers. He shouted something to her she couldn't hear, voice ragged and accusatory.

Marianne should have had the presence of mind to move out of the way as he raised his sword, preparing to bring it down like the blade of a guillotine, but all she could do was stare. In the blink of an eye, however, the man jerked backwards and gave a scream that could only be the herald of death. A javelin protruded from his chest. 

Marianne spun around to find Dimitri standing beside her, his chest rising and falling with an urgency. A streak of blood ran down the side of his face, and she almost gasped in horror as soon as she saw it. 

"Dimi—" 

One of the worst sounds she had ever heard, a dull thud, interrupted her. 

"Goddess!" Marianne cursed under her breath, rushing to Dimitri's side as he clutched his shoulder, an arrow jutting out from it. 

"I'm — _damn it_ — I… I'm fine."

"Don't move, okay? Just don't move." 

Marianne tore her gaze from Dimitri to identify where the arrow had come from. Sure enough, an archer stood a few yards away. They had nocked an arrow onto their bow and pointed it at them. 

Marianne wasted no time in summoning a spell, blasting the archer with fire. They fell onto their back, clawing at their scorched clothing before wobbling to their feet. Dedue, to her relief, kicked their attacker back onto the ground. He shouted at her through the chaos to assist the prince. 

Calling to mind every lesson she had on emergency healing and treatment, Marianne began to work on Dimitri. She couldn't stop glancing at the dark red blotches that stained his golden hair, and her hands wouldn't stop their shaking. 

~•~•~•~

She had forgotten. 

Well, that wasn't true. Marianne had always known, but she chose to keep it in the back of her mind, pushing it away whenever she felt like it. 

It was easier at the Edmund estate to remember who she was. Her adoptive father's constant warnings to keep her blood a secret wouldn't let her forget. It was easier there to stay away from people, only interacting with them if there was no other option. 

However, at Garreg Mach, Margrave Edmund wasn't there to chide her. He wasn't there to remind her of the one thing that ruled her life. Instead, she had Hilda, who told her that it was all right to accept help from others. She had Claude, who told her jokes to make her laugh. The professor, who believed in her despite all the evidence she had not to. Dimitri, whose smile somehow made her feel like a normal girl.

Marianne was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, she could live in a world where her blood didn't matter. But that wasn't true. It could never be. Watching Miklan turn into a demonic beast with the power of a Crest stone reminded her of that. 

Hearing and seeing were two different things. Marianne heard through legends that Crests had the ability to turn a person into a beast. Although they were enough to make her want to drain the blood from her body, she held onto the hope that they were just stories. But now that she had seen firsthand what Crests could truly do...

The fear felt new. 

Marianne held the training sword Professor Byleth had given her as though it were a live serpent. Her grip on the handle was light, so much so that a measly tap could be used to disarm her. 

Pointing the sword's tip downwards, Marianne directed her gaze at her sparring partner. Annette fanned herself with a hand, her training axe lying on the floor next to her. It was a hot day despite autumn being a hair's breadth away. As a result, sweat clung to everyone's back like they were just in rain.

"I'm just going to get some water. I'll be back before you know it!" Annette said, walking away. 

With nothing else to do, Marianne surveyed the training grounds. Ashe was in the middle of fitting an arrow on to a bow, saying something to Dedue, who nodded at his words. Sylvain and Ingrid sparred with wooden staves not too far away. 

In the middle of the room, the professor and Dimitri crossed blades. Marianne watched as the two swung at each other, their focus on their respective opponent's movements. Then they abruptly stopped, Dimitri wincing as he reached for his shoulder. The one he got injured in during their mission. 

Professor Byleth gave him a look of concern, which he attempted to assuage with a laugh. Readjusting his grip on the sword, Dimitri noticed Marianne's gaze. He smiled, and she turned away. 

"Hey."

Marianne stared at Felix as he approached her, wielding both a sword and a scowl. She threw a glance over her shoulder; no one was there. He was, in fact, talking to her. 

Out of all the Blue Lions, Felix seemed to care for her presence the least. He never spoke to her, the extent of their interactions being one-sided glares. His apparent disregard for Marianne never bothered her, for that meant one less person she had to blunder around. She did find him a bit scary though. 

"Yes…?" Marianne replied, unconsciously taking a step back. 

"What are you doing?" Felix asserted, scowl deepening. 

"Um…" She looked at her feet, confusion and fear gripping her. Why did he look so angry? Had she done something wrong? 

Felix carried on without waiting for her to gather her thoughts. "The way you hold your sword is infuriating." He motioned to her hand as if it was an obscenity. "It's like you think it'll bite you." 

Oh… What was she supposed to say to that? 

"I-I'm sorry," Marianne murmured. 

"Hmph," he responded. "I wouldn't care so much if it was because you didn't know the first thing about swordplay, but that's not the case, is it? I've seen you use a sword before — Hell, in the beginning of the year, you got to quarter-finals in a tournament using one." 

She had, and it was mortifying. Claude still talked about it to this day. 

"That was just luck," she defended, reiterating what she always said to her former house leader. 

"Luck is nothing without skill." Felix was unconvinced. He lifted his sword up from his side, widening the distance between his feet. "Raise your weapon. We're sparring." 

"What? Wait a minute—" 

Felix came at her with a swing, and she had no choice but to block. Her protests dissolved into the sound of their swords clacking together. He was unrelenting, seemingly ignoring her trembling as well as her ashen face. 

For many hammering heartbeats, all Marianne did was stave off his attacks, her movements sloppy and erratic. 

"You're holding back on purpose. Why?" Felix said while stepping back. She would have thought that he was withdrawing if he hadn't made a move back toward her. 

"N-None of your concern!" Marianne faltered.

"Do you do the same when you're on the battlefield?" 

"I said—"

Something in Marianne's blood began to boil, bubbling and hissing. A haziness took over her eyes as she felt her sword make a downwards strike. The next thing she heard was a clanging, the sound of wood colliding with stone. 

When her vision finally cleared, she saw Felix standing before her, watching her with a sharp gaze. Marianne could feel it slicing open her skin to examine the monstrosity that hid underneath. 

Does… Does he know? No, he couldn't but, but— 

A hand fell softly onto her shoulder. The person attached to it stared down at her, worry billowing in deep blue eyes. 

"Marianne?" Dimitri said. She peered at him — at the latest sufferer of her Crest — imagining another arrow piercing through him, stopping his heartbeat for good. 

It felt like the floor beneath her had melted away. 

What happened during Marianne's walk to the infirmary was a blur. Aside from Professor Byleth's inquiries about how she felt, Marianne couldn't recall any of it with a lick of clarity. She remembered Annette's argument with Felix growing distant, the sun hitting her face, and then Professor Manuela welcoming them to the infirmary. That was it.

Marianne now sat on one of the chairs in the infirmary, drinking the last of the tea that had been brewed for her. 

"Are you feeling better now?" asked Professor Byleth. 

Marianne lowered the cup from her lips. "Yes, thank you." 

Professor Manuela had determined that her faintness was caused by lack of food and sleep accompanied by stress. She merely nodded along and accepted whatever came her way, be it a piece of cake or medicine that would make her drowsy later. 

"You get lots of rest after this, all right?" Professor Manuela said as she took her cup back. "And in the morning make sure to eat breakfast. I know you students — always prioritizing your studies rather than yourselves." 

"I will," Marianne replied, almost without feeling. "Thank you." 

As Professor Manuela walked to her desk, a figure emerged in the doorway. Marianne's fingers curled into her palm at the sight of a blue cape. The prince. He stopped at the front of the room, alighting his gaze directly onto her as if there was no one else in the room. His gaze softened. 

Dimitri asked after her well-being, and Marianne gave him the same answer she had given to Professor Byleth. What followed was an exchange between him and the professor about how the class behaved in her absence, after which Marianne announced her intention to go to her room. 

Of course, Professor Byleth couldn't let that be the end of it and insisted she walked with someone. And that was how Marianne ended up walking side by side with Dimitri to the dormitory. 

"It relieves me to see that you're better," Dimitri said. He sounded like he meant it. Marianne nodded.

They exited the central building, a breeze sweeping past them. 

"I am…" He sighed. "I apologize on Felix's behalf. He can be… difficult. In any case, I spoke to him and he has agreed to not trouble you any further." 

"All right," Marianne murmured, turning one of the charms of her bracelet in between her fingers. 

Silence became their third companion, trailing closely behind them as they passed the northern courtyard and entered the second floor of the dormitory. 

Marianne's room was now in sight… as well as the end of her and Dimitri's time together. She squeezed her eyes shut, dreading what she was going to have to do. 

Dimitri was good. Although before recently they hadn't been much more than acquaintances, it was painfully obvious to her that he was. He cared for his classmates, protected them, and wanted them to succeed. He was good and kind and selfless — everything that she wasn't.

If she were like him, then she wouldn't have allowed herself to ignore the power of her Crest. She wouldn't have decided to continuously put others in danger for the sake of feeling normal. Marianne was selfish, putting her own stupid happiness before those who called her a friend. The arrow that could have killed Dimitri was a testament to that. 

Once they got to the entrance of her room, Marianne stopped. 

"Marianne." Dimitri broke the silence first. "You have been acting strange since we returned from Conand Tower. Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, keeping her back to him. 

The prince paused. "Have I done something to upset you?"

Marianne stared at her room's doorknob, wanting nothing more than to turn it. "You haven't." 

"Please, don't feel the need to spare my feelings. If I've done something, then I will take responsibility and do all I can to fix it." 

"I'm not trying to spare your feelings." 

"Are you sure—" 

"You haven't done anything wrong, Dimitri. I'm not upset with you," Marianne interrupted then took a shaky breath. "But… But I have to ask that you stay away from me." 

"You want me to stay away from you?" he echoed, the confusion in his voice growing.

"Yes," Marianne answered. She turned to face him. "I'm sorry, but that is the way it has to be." 

For a moment, Dimitri opened his mouth, seemingly to say something. Marianne readied herself for the inevitable questioning or accusations that usually occurred when she had to do these things, but none came. Dimitri closed his mouth, and let his pained expression convey whatever he was about to say. 

Somehow that was worse. 

"I won't argue if that's what you wish." He tilted his head down, eyes peeking through his fringe. "However, may I ask why?" 

What could she say to make him understand? In all her experiences, she had found that _nothing_ she said could make anyone understand.

Sometimes they would laugh: _"Who put that misfortune nonsense into your mind?"_ Other times become frustrated: _"Enough with your self-absorption! The world doesn't revolve around you!"_

No one ever understood, and Marianne could not blame them. They were right. She was foolish, self-absorbed, and awful. From her skin to her bones to her heart, Marianne von Edmund was just _awful._

"I know you must be confused, but you needn't worry over it. Just know that it isn't your fault." 

Marianne stepped into her room, looking at the floor because she couldn't stand to look anywhere else. As much as she wanted to retreat into the solitude of her room, there was something else she had to say first. 

"Thank you for your kindness toward me. I won't forget it," she said. There, it was done. 

With that, Marianne closed the door. Despite the weight on her eyelids, she continued to stand behind it. She heard nothing for a long while, then there was the sound of footsteps. 


End file.
